The blade Nobu had swung froze less than a few centimeters from Ichimaru Gin's body.
Blue streams of reishi filled the space around them, so dense they were visible to the naked eye. In that instant, Nobu felt as if he had fallen into a sea of mud, a massive force driving at him, shoving him outward with all its might.
At full release, a Third-Class spiritual rank's reiatsu was already overwhelming—and here, the sheer impact of Gin's reishi alone carried crushing power.
In the audience stands, faces tightened.
Every single person could feel it—this was Captain-class pressure.
Gin's shihakushō whipped wildly in the storm. Shinsō was steady in his grip, his eyes locked on Nobu, and he spoke, slowly, clearly—
"[Bankai]."
A jolt ran through Nobu's mind.
But at such close range, there was no time to retreat.
Even as the thought formed, a colossal weight slammed into his chest.
Boom!
Air tore as Shinsō—now released—drove into him. The impact hurled Nobu dozens of meters, smashing him into one of the killing-stone pillars hard enough to make the entire thing shudder.
Gin let out a slow, misted breath. His hanging sleeves still swayed in the wind, his Zanpakutō humming softly in his hands.
No one in the stands had seen what had happened.
They had only glimpsed a white beam burst from Gin's position—then, in the next moment, Nobu was there, slammed into a distant pillar, the two of them separated by a blade stretched dozens of meters long.
Gasps erupted.
Kotetsu Isane even stood in alarm—then exhaled in relief when she saw movement from the pillar's side.
Faster than before. The speed was impossible to follow. Bankai, then?
She wasn't the only one to think it. Even among the Captains, expressions were grave.
If they had taken that strike… there was a high chance they couldn't have avoided it either.
"Hadō #4: Byakurai!"
From the pillar, a white bolt of lightning shot toward Gin.
He shifted aside, Shinsō collapsing back into its short form.
Nobu landed again.
He had to admit—the speed of that blow had been too great, and the force behind it startling. If not for Higan's ability, it would have pierced him clean through.
Gin's gaze sharpened when he saw Nobu unharmed.
If in shikai, Shinsō couldn't harm him, maybe it was simply a lack of killing power.
But in bankai, Kamishini no Yari's speed—and the force speed generated—was at a level human limits could never touch.
A hundred times the speed of sound.
"A truly remarkable bankai," Nobu said. "If someone faced it for the first time, they'd have no chance of escaping."
Gin's tone turned unusually grave. "And yet Nobu-kun… you came away without a scratch. Compared to my strike, that's what's harder to believe."
He'd spoken what the rest of the crowd was thinking. Gin's blow had been terrifying—but Nobu, looking utterly untouched, was even more unnerving.
Nobu's mouth curved faintly. He raised his asauchi, pointing it toward Gin.
"Ichimaru-fukutaichō—this is your strongest technique, isn't it?"
"…"
Shoom!
Nobu vanished in a single shunpō. Gin's eyes narrowed, locking onto where he appeared.
Kamishini no Yari!
Slash—!
Another white line tore through the air, its end lost to sight.
This time Nobu had anticipated it—his blade caught it as it streaked past, sparks bursting, both weapons trembling with the impact.
Any ordinary asauchi would have snapped from such a blow.
But Nobu's blade held the Soul King's Right Hand within it—making it unbreakable.
Gin withdrew Shinsō, ready to strike again—when Nobu's reiatsu flared violently.
"Hadō #88—"
Gin's eyes widened in shock. Blue-white reishi surged, twisting into a spiraling vortex.
Nobu thrust one hand forward—light and flame ripped the air, a spiraling cannon of energy meters wide roaring toward him.
"Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō!"
No matter how confident Gin was, he had never dared to take an #88 head-on.
Even without an incantation, the sheer force in that shot was enough to set every alarm in his body ringing.
I have to evade—
I have to—
His hand swept up.
"Bakudō #81: Dankū!"
The barrier sprang up, but hastily cast, it lacked its full power—and Nobu's sudden casting had caught him a half-beat behind. Gin knew it wouldn't hold. He only hoped to buy an instant.
The spiraling flood of reishi crashed into the wall. Shockwaves blasted out, and though the arena's reishi dampeners swallowed much of it, winds still sent ordinary Shinigami staggering.
This was supposed to be a vice-captain–level match.
It was long past that.
Dankū shattered. The raging column engulfed half the stage—thankfully, Gin's back was to a killing-stone pillar, which drank the attack dry.
But Gin was gone from sight. Nobu's head tilted upward.
High above, Gin had leapt into the air. There was no footing in Soul Society's dense reishi atmosphere—he had used Shinsō's thrust to propel himself up.
His blade leveled downward.
Flash!
The white spear fell like a bolt toward Nobu. This time, Nobu didn't even try to block—he let the point hit him square in the brow.
Gin's eyes went wide.
It felt… like stabbing into something indestructible. Not even a push back, not even the smallest shift in his stance.
Instead, the recoil sent Gin sliding back through the air.
Nobu stood unmoved, gaze calm.
Gin landed back on the stage, turmoil twisting in his chest. Refusing to believe it, he lashed out again—the blade shooting hundreds of meters in a blink.
Nobu sidestepped—but only enough for it to graze past his ear. Then, suddenly, his hand shot up and closed around the blade.
He caught it.
Gin froze, shock spilling into fear.
Reishi poured from Nobu's grip into Shinsō. When Gin tried to retract it, he found—he couldn't.
What—
Before the thought finished, Nobu's sword swept up in a great arc. A ten-meter wave of sword-pressure erupted forward.
With Shinsō held fast, Gin couldn't dodge—only abandon it. The cold in that wave rooted him where he stood.
"Gin!"
A voice called from the sidelines.
The thought snapped him back—but the wave was already there.
Boom!
It didn't cut. Instead, it became a roaring wind, so strong he couldn't open his eyes. It tore past him, over the arena, straight toward the Captains' seats.
The reishi control devices didn't touch it—
coats flared, hair whipped in the gale.
Yamamoto didn't so much as blink, watching the man in the ring.
Pain flared in Gin's arms. His fingers loosened involuntarily.
Clatter—
Shinsō, now in its short form again, fell to the ground. Gin's arms hung limp.
The reishi joints…
Dazed, he saw Nobu already in front of him—sword sheathed, walking away.
Just like that… it was over?
He thought back to Nobu's earlier question.
Have you ever lost?
From his first days at the Academy, he had been called a genius. Chosen for it.
Until now—never defeated. Even among his peers, like Shiba Kaien, he had believed he would win.
And now Tachikawa Nobu—barely a year a Shinigami—had beaten him, bankai and all.
Gin stared at Nobu's back.
A thought came unbidden—
This man… perhaps…
"Thank you for the match, Ichimaru-fukutaichō."
Nobu stopped in the center of the stage, looking back.
"…"
Gin was silent a moment, then exhaled. "…I lost."
For a moment, the crowd was wordless, still caught in the shock.
For ordinary Shinigami, a fight like this—Captain-class releases, chantless high-level Kidō—might be something they would see once in a century.
Kotetsu Isane finally stepped onto the stage, checked Gin's injuries, and called Fourth Division members to take him for treatment.
Then she announced Nobu as the victor.
The noise swelled.
But among the Captains, there was only silence.
In the Third Division's seats, Togakushi Rikū's eyes shone.
"A truly splendid battle."
It was Ukitake Jūshirō who finally broke the quiet, smiling. "The strength of both was at Captain-class, without doubt."
Kyōraku Shunsui nodded. "Ichimaru-fukutaichō, with bankai, is already Captain-level. Tachikawa-san's reiatsu in that fight reached Third-Class—and with his sword skill and the way he cast that high-level Kidō without incantation… he's there too."
Komamura Sajin rumbled, "To have such juniors in the Gotei 13—it is a blessing."
Aizen Sōsuke added lightly, "I thought our Fifth Division might take the crown in this exchange. It seems…"
He gave a rueful smile, easing the air between the Captains.
After all, if even Gin's own Captain didn't seem troubled…
Behind them, others watched with varied expressions.
"Rangiku, where are you going?"
Ise Nanao's voice was quiet. She'd noticed Matsumoto Rangiku slip away.
Hitsugaya Tōshirō also looked puzzled—his vice-captain's match hadn't yet come.
She didn't explain. She just left. He glanced at his own Captain—Shiba Isshin—who didn't ask either.
Tōshirō's eyes went back to Nobu—and he sighed.
He had thought his own progress fast enough to catch up soon. This fight had shown him just how wide the gap still was.
But one day… he would be stronger.
Stronger than him.
"Unohana-taichō," Shiba Isshin said with a grin, "this Tachikawa hardly seems like a member of your Fourth Division."
"Oh? And what does Isshin-taichō mean by that?" Unohana's smile was mild.
"Well, even if his Zanpakutō is Kaidō-type..."
"With that strength, he shouldn't be limited to a healer's role. Seems to me the Academy's evaluations aren't nearly thorough enough."
Unohana replied, "The Fourth is already changing. Tachikawa is part of that effort. Before long, everyone's impression of our medical Shinigami will change."
She paused. "Unless… Isshin-taichō regrets he didn't come to your Tenth Division. But someone like Tachikawa… will never stay just a vice-captain or a seated officer for long. Don't you agree?"
Faces shifted all around at that.
Isshin only smiled, saying nothing.